


Equalibrium

by absolutelyCancerous (cal1brations)



Category: Kingdom Hearts
Genre: Implied Relationships, M/M, Multi, Partner Betrayal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-06
Updated: 2012-08-06
Packaged: 2017-11-11 14:02:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 848
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/479299
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cal1brations/pseuds/absolutelyCancerous
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's a show. This is how everything goes. This is part of the plan.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Equalibrium

Your gloved fingers brush against his one second too long when you hand in your reports.

Your eyes stayed locked with idle pools of gold, even when you pull your arm back to your side, stuff your hand in your pocket.

You hesitate with your words one millisecond more than is acceptable when he poses you with simple questions. How did the mission go. Did you finish this or are you handing me blank reports.

It’s a show. This is how everything goes. This is part of the plan.

At least, that’s what you tell yourself. That’s what you try to remember when you see him trailing after the Superior like some kind of obedient mutt. Isa has always been good at deceiving people, you remind yourself, when you see them whispering in the hallways when they think they are alone, lips much to close and voices much to breathy.

It’s not that he’s leaving you for him. It’s not.

It’s all just a part of the plan.

It doesn’t make you any less jealous, though, knowing that your best friend is a master with playing “quid pro quo” with the Superior. It makes you grind your teeth when you can see the bruises that line the pale column of Isa’s neck that aren’t from  _your_  mouth. It makes your hands heat up enough to spark flames when you catch them conversing like they’re fucking pals, like it’s a usual interaction of some sort.

It actually makes you sick the few, rare times you’ve seen him slink silently out of the Superior’s quarters.

He’s Saix, at these times. Stoic and silent and cold. As the Organization knows him, as the plan called for. It’s a different role, and sometimes you forget that’s all it is; a role.

But he always comes back to you, and that’s the important part.

He always comes to your quarters, late, when he knows he won’t get caught. You welcome him every time, kissing and touching and lavishing. He’s not Saix, at these times when you’re tangled together so terribly it’s impossible to know who starts here and who ends there.

He’s Isa.

He’s Isa in the times those golden eyes stare at you, drink you in and observe you. In the times you press soft, feathery kisses along each of the two scars that mar his pretty, pale face. When you’re pressed together, fingers intertwined and lips locked. Gentle touches and hushed words.

When he tells you it’s all “part of the plan, just part of the plan, Lea.”

And you believe him. You believe him so much, so  _fucking_  much. Because this is Isa, when he’s assuring you of such matters; there’s hints of actual emotion there, unlike when Saix speaks, and it’s enough to make you believe every word that comes out of his mouth.

But he’s Saix once more when you’re both finished and spent. When he leaves the warmth of you and your bedsheets to clean himself up; slip back into his uniform left pooled on the floor. When he seems to have no qualms, not even a speck of remorse when he tells you he’s got to get up early, or has to visit the Superior this evening, too.

And that’s okay. Because then, you’re Axel again, and you’re not mad or anything. Just lazy and content as you watch him gather his things, brush out knots and smooth down long, tantalizing hair, trying to look presentable. It’s almost comical, you think, the fact he cares so much.

But Saix melts into Isa one last time before he leaves you to the rest of your evening. He doesn’t smile, not literally, but you swear you can see it in his eyes. You share one last kiss, nothing too lustful besides a prolonged press of lips before he pulls away with a small nod.

“Don’t worry.” He says. It’s not a suggestion, it’s an order.

You nod. “I know.”

Again, he bobs his head in a nod before turning to leave. You almost,  _almost_  dare to call out for him, pull him back and hug yourself to him. But you know better, because once that corridor appears at the tips of his fingers, it’s Saix who steps through to the other side, and Isa’s gone back into hiding.

You turn over, to bury your face in the pillows. It smells like Isa, and you take a long drag before you notice that you can smell a hint of not-Isa, and that’s definitely _Superior-scent_  in your fucking bed and you kind of want to be sick.

Maybe, you think as you lie on your back and hold your forearms over your eyes, that Isa’s getting too good at playing this game of back-and-forth.

Maybe, it’s not really a game.

If you had a heart, this would be the part where it shattered as your world came tumbling down as you realize that Isa doesn’t belong to you anymore, and that friendship can’t last over more than  _one_  lifetime.

You think that is the moment when you officially became Axel.


End file.
